


slow moves and dirty tricks

by asael



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Face-Sitting, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:08:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23689693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asael/pseuds/asael
Summary: Catherine got herself into trouble that she only barely managed to make it out of. Needless to say, Shamir's not happy - but Catherine's efforts did get them a free room at an inn. A locking door and a comfortable bed - what better way to make it up to her partner?
Relationships: Catherine/Shamir Nevrand
Comments: 13
Kudos: 56
Collections: Cathmir Week 2020





	slow moves and dirty tricks

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Cathmir Week 2020! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Set after canon, during their paired ending. :)

“I told you not to get involved.” Shamir let the door swing shut behind her, watching as Catherine dumped their bags near the bed. She felt it was only right that Catherine do the fetching and carrying, all things considered. “We have no business getting involved in a sheep-stealing dispute in _Albinea_ , of all places.”

“Someone needed to,” Catherine said. “It was about to erupt into an all-out brawl. Who could just stand by and let that happen?”

“Us,” said Shamir, short and to the point. “This isn’t our land, and it isn’t our problem.”

“But it all worked out.” Catherine was smiling now, a bright grin that was altogether impossible not to be affected by, even for Shamir. Perhaps especially for Shamir. “They would never have figured out it was just a hungry bear without us. And then who knows what could have happened?”

Shamir sighed. “And you almost got _eaten_ by that bear.”

“But I didn’t,” Catherine said. “And they were grateful enough to give us this room for free. Don’t you think it all worked out in the end?”

The worst thing was, Catherine was right. Oh, she hadn’t been right to get involved in the first place - they really should have kept their noses out of some strangers’ business, but Catherine seemed entirely incapable of that - but it had worked out in the end. And Shamir could admit, if only to herself, that she was glad to be spending the night inside, in the warmth of an inn. Albinea was bitterly cold even this far into spring. Their tent never seemed to be enough to keep the chill off.

But Shamir was not quite ready to let it go. “After the last time, you said you’d ask me before getting us involved with something like that.”

“I did say that,” Catherine admitted. She was smiling still, and she lowered herself to sit on the bed, sighing in pleasure at the comfort of a mattress that was not simply the hard, cold ground. “I guess I… forgot?” Her grin turned sheepish. “Come on, don’t be mad.”

Shamir pressed her lips together. “I’m not mad,” she said, ignoring the fact that she was, in fact, mad. “I just wish you were a little less careless about these things.”

“That’s not the first time you’ve said that.” Catherine stood, walking to her, and then hesitated. “But hey, it really did all work out.”

“You could have died,” Shamir said, a touch harsher than she intended. Catherine reached out, settling her hands on Shamir’s shoulders. Her gaze was softer now, sweeter.

“I like it when you worry about me, partner,” she said. “Even though you know I’m not gonna go down that easily.”

Shamir frowned. “That doesn’t mean I’m ready to lose you quite yet, you fool. Besides, just because you think you can fight a bear one-on-one doesn’t mean you need to _try_.”

“I had you there to guard my back.” Catherine looked at her differently now, something speculative. “How about I make it up to you?”

Shamir fixed her with a sharp look and made a _hmm_ noise. As if she wasn’t sure, though of course she was. She could already feel the churn of excitement in her stomach, the prick of interest within her. “You’d have to do quite a bit to make it up to me.”

Catherine grinned. “We’ve got this big bed and all night ahead of us. I think I could probably figure something out.” She raised an eyebrow, cocky and so sure of herself. “Maybe with a little help?”

Goddess, her partner was obnoxious. Unfortunately, that was half the reason Shamir liked her so much - she really could not say much about her own taste. But just look at Catherine, still riding the high from that successful fight, smiling and so sure of herself. It was beautiful to look at, would be beautiful no matter how many times it happened, no matter how many times Shamir told her _be reasonable_ and she didn’t listen.

But in the end, neither of them were reasonable. If it hadn’t been Catherine, it would have been her - maybe more well-thought-out, more careful, but what was the difference, really?

Shamir did not smile, but she saw the moment Catherine caught it in her eyes even so.

“You need help now?” Shamir said, letting her lips quirk into the barest, meanest of smiles. “I would think by now you’d know how.”

If anything, Catherine’s grin widened. “Sure, I could guess. But you know me - if you’re not really clear, I might get it wrong.” She reached out then, trailed her fingers down Shamir’s cheek. Shamir could feel her sword callouses, the strength of her hand even in that gentle touch.

“Then I guess I’d better step in,” Shamir said. She stepped close, tangled her fingers in Catherine’s hair, and pulled her down for a punishing kiss - all in one move.

The truth was, Shamir wanted to make the most of this. The truth was, they rarely had this kind of safety, this kind of privacy - usually they stayed in a tent, journeying through the countryside, and though they were careful there was always some part of them that needed to be vigilant. Both of them were too well trained for anything else. But now, for once, they had sturdy walls around them. They had a door they could lock - and Shamir had, with a certain amount of relish, the moment they stepped inside.

They had the opportunity to indulge themselves. Not a quick needy fumble in their bedrolls, half their senses alert to any movement outside. Not stolen kisses, one hand on their weapons.

For once, they could really enjoy themselves. And Shamir fully intended to.

“Start by taking off your clothes,” she said, letting Catherine go and stepping back. “ _All_ of them.”

The smile on Catherine’s face was excited, anticipatory. She did as she was told, unhooking her armor and setting it aside. It would need cleaning and a bit of repairing later, but both of them were content to put that off for the moment. There were more pressing tasks to attend to.

Shamir watched as Catherine peeled the rest of her clothing off. Unlike her armor, which she’d been careful with, everything else ended up in a pile on the floor, kicked aside with something that looked very much like glee. Shamir did not smile, but she could not deny the way her heart lightened when she saw Catherine’s pleasure.

It was not only her heart that Catherine affected. As she stripped, bearing tanned skin and lean muscles, Shamir felt the warmth of her own desire grow. She could look at Catherine for hours, really - her scars from a life of battle, her warrior’s build, the way she held herself. And she was shameless like this, stretching her arms above her head and working the kinks out of her shoulders, fully aware of the amazing things that did to her breasts.

Shamir stepped closer and reached out, trailing her gloved fingers over Catherine’s hip. But that wasn’t enough, she wanted the contact of skin on skin, so she peeled the gloves off and let them fall to the ground. Then she could touch Catherine, really and truly, sliding fingers across her skin and down until they just barely brushed the golden curls between her legs.

Catherine caught her hand then and brought it up to her lips, kissing Shamir’s palm. Her eyes were sharp with desire. “Come on. It’s gotta be your turn now - I want to see you.”

“Hm,” Shamir said, with the barest of smiles. “Then I think you’d better undress me, don’t you?”

“I’d better,” Catherine said, grinning, and she stepped in close. Her movements were certain and deliberate. She pushed Shamir’s jacket off her shoulders, dropping it to the floor, but before she began to take Shamir’s shirt off she leaned down. One arm slid around Shamir’s waist, and then Catherine’s mouth was pressed to the top of her breasts, one side and then the other, warm against her skin. Catherine tugged the fabric down just far enough that Shamir’s breasts popped out, and then she seemed to forget entirely about undressing.

Her hand came up to cup one of Shamir’s breasts, its sword callouses rough against tender skin. One thumb brushed over her nipple, and Catherine’s mouth traveled down until she could take Shamir’s other nipple between her lips, until she could lick and suck and tease.

Shamir allowed it for a moment, because it felt so good, because she loved the way Catherine’s mouth felt on her. Then she tangled her fingers in Catherine’s wild hair and pulled her away, leaving her nipples spit-slick and hard with arousal.

“Can’t you control yourself at all?” she said, but Catherine only smiled.

“Not with you right in front of me.” She tweaked Shamir’s nipple again, just once more, and then her hands moved lower, unfastening Shamir’s pants. This time Catherine stayed more or less on task - she knelt down to remove Shamir’s boots, then pulled her pants off, tossing them aside.

Then it was just the two of them, bare before each other.

“Goddess, you’re gorgeous,” Catherine said. Her eyes roved over Shamir’s body, hungry. “Can I touch you _now_?” There was a demanding note to her voice, bordering on whiny, of all things. Shamir rolled her eyes, hiding her amusement.

“Come on,” she said, and she walked to the bed.

The mattress was soft on her back, a far cry from the hard ground she’d gotten used to. Shamir knew, with a sense of resignation, that it would be difficult for her to get to sleep in a bed that soft - the natural result of the hard living they’d been doing. The only possible solution would be to wear herself out. Wear _both_ of them out.

Which, after all, was the plan.

Shamir settled with her back against the headboard, legs spread. She looked up at Catherine, who had been watching her the whole time, and raised an eyebrow. “Well?” she said. “Come over here and touch me, if you’re so eager.”

But Shamir, of course, was eager too. She’d always been good at keeping her composure, and a situation like this was no different, but that didn’t mean she didn’t _feel_ it. She felt the desire rising within her, a warmth in her belly, the wetness between her legs. If she’d been alone she would have reached down, gotten herself off quickly and efficiently so that she could concentrate on other things.

She wasn’t alone. The mattress dipped as Catherine climbed onto the bed, crawled across the covers, and settled above her. She didn’t need another invitation or any encouragement - she leaned close and captured Shamir’s mouth with her own.

Catherine always kissed like she was hungry. She had a demanding way to her that Shamir found especially satisfying because she knew exactly how to shatter it, exactly how to break down all Catherine’s defenses and leave her gasping, begging, moaning Shamir’s name.

She fully intended to do that, but first -

She kissed Catherine back and felt Catherine’s hands slide up her body, cupping her breasts again just as Catherine pulled away and moved down Shamir’s body. Catherine liked her breasts - liked touching them, licking them, sucking her nipples and sometimes leaving lovebites on the skin. Shamir had to admit she liked it too - liked the attention Catherine gave them, liked the sharp spikes of pleasure that attention sent through her body.

But that wasn’t what she wanted right now.

“I want your mouth on me,” she said, a low and no-nonsense murmur. “I want your tongue hard at work, partner. That’s how you’ll make it up to me.”

Catherine grinned up at her. “I think I can do that.” She moved down Shamir’s body, pressing her mouth against Shamir’s skin, fierce kisses and the barest brush of teeth. Shamir spread her legs so that Catherine could settle between them, anticipating the warmth of her mouth, her tongue. 

It was Catherine’s fingers she felt first, though, slipping through her damp curls, parting her folds. One strong finger circled her clit, and Shamir raised herself up just enough to frown down at Catherine. But before she could scold her partner for teasing her, Catherine bent in close and put her mouth on Shamir.

Shamir sighed in pleasure, settled back against the headboard. She could see Catherine from where she was still, see her blonde head between Shamir’s legs, her strong hand on Shamir’s thigh, fingers wet where they’d dipped into Shamir’s cunt.

And she was wet now, wet and ready and needing more. Catherine’s tongue explored her, slipping between her folds, flicking over her clit. Shamir tensed at that, letting out a gasp as the pleasure of it went through her, and Catherine responded by licking her again, teasing her clit until Shamir was breathless and aching with need.

Then she flattened her tongue against Shamir, licked her one last time, and stopped.

Oh, she didn’t _completely_ stop. She moved further down, still buried in Shamir, mouth on her, and now her tongue was pushing inside Shamir, the slick strength of it easily pressing into her. And it felt _good_ , it was something Shamir liked most of the time - but right now, what it really meant was that Catherine wasn’t paying any attention to her clit.

Shamir knew it was on purpose, too. Catherine was teasing her, provoking her. They’d been together for long enough that she had to know what she was doing, she had to know that Shamir wasn’t just going to lay there and take it.

She reached out, tangled her fingers in Catherine’s hair again, and pulled her up with a harsh motion. It hurt - it had to, but the sound Catherine made was pure pleasure. She looked debauched and delighted, her lips glistening from Shamir’s juices.

“Get on your back,” Shamir said. She was aching for it, she needed it, and she was going to set the pace - and she knew, just from the way Catherine looked at her, that Cathering had been waiting for this. _Wanting_ this.

“Whatever you want, baby,” Catherine said, and Shamir rolled her eyes. Sometimes Catherine liked to tease her with pet names like that, liked to see Shamir’s annoyance. Sometimes it was even real annoyance.

They moved, switching places so that Catherine lay on her back on the bed and Shamir was above her. She reached down just for a moment, sliding her fingers into Catherine’s wet pussy. Teasing her, like Catherine had done to her. Beneath her, Catherine moaned, the sound turning into something else entirely when Shamir brought her wet fingers up and licked the fluid off them.

“Goddess, I love it when you’re filthy,” she said, her tanned cheeks flushed. She looked at Shamir like Shamir was the beginning and the end, was everything she could have wanted. Once upon a time, Shamir had thought that Catherine would only ever look at Rhea that way - but she knew better now. 

“Then you’ll like this,” Shamir said, and she let herself smile - a thin and sly thing, a smile that she knew would get Catherine even more worked up. She moved up Catherine’s body until she could brace herself on the headboard, legs spread above Catherine’s face. Then she lowered down, pressing her pussy to Catherine’s mouth, taking control.

She could hear Catherine’s moan, muffled by her cunt, and then Catherine’s tongue got to work. She licked eagerly, much less teasing than before. Her hand came up to curl around Shamir’s taut thigh, helping her steady herself, encouraging her.

Catherine liked this, liked the all-consuming nature of it, liked being surrounded by Shamir’s scent and her sex and everything else. She’d said so before, and Shamir had never forgotten, even if they rarely had a chance to indulge. She liked it, too - liked the power of it, liked the way it undid Catherine below her.

Catherine’s mouth moved over her entrance, her folds, and then Shamir tilted her hips and pressed her clit against Catherine’s eager tongue. Pleasure exploded within her, almost too much to stand, and Shamir began to move her hips, riding Catherine, building friction between her clit and Catherine’s tongue. 

Catherine took it and wanted more, her fingers digging into Shamir’s leg, urging her on. Her mouth was sloppy now, slurping and licking at Shamir, letting Shamir use her as she pleased.

And Shamir did please. She arched against Catherine, caught her breath, moved again, and then orgasm struck her like a thunderbolt, a cry tearing itself from her lips even though she was usually quiet. She couldn’t help it, with Catherine beneath her like that.

Holding onto the headboard still, Shamir struggled to catch her breath. Catherine moved up against her again, the flat of her tongue laving Shamir’s clit, and that shivery pleasure went through her once more, drawing out another moan, softer this time.

“Good girl,” Shamir said, and she moved off Catherine.

If Catherine had looked debauched before, she looked like something else entirely now. A demon of lust, perhaps, her cheeks red and her whole face wet with Shamir’s juices. She licked them from her lips, shamelessly, and Shamir smiled.

When she reached between Catherine’s legs, Catherine almost came right there, that’s how keyed up she was. She was dripping with it, eager, and her hips rose up to meet Shamir’s hand.

“Good enough for a reward?” Catherine said, and her voice was raw with need.

“Hmm,” Shamir said. She trailed her fingers up Catherine’s stomach, letting that hang in the air for a moment as if she might say no, even though they both knew she wouldn’t. She liked making Catherine come about as much as she liked coming herself. “I think so.”

And then, with that sly smile, she went to work. Her hand moved on Catherine, down to her cunt, between her folds and straight to her clit. Her mouth pressed to Catherine’s abdomen, her stomach, up to her breasts. Shamir teased Catherine’s nipples with her mouth while her hand teased her lover’s clit, until Catherine was moaning and crying out beneath her. 

She loved that, she loved seeing Catherine lose control. It was exciting on a level deeper even than desire. Maybe it was love - Shamir had not been comfortable reaching that part of herself for some time, but then there was Catherine, and the trust they shared. What was love, if not a desire to protect someone, a desire to give them pleasure until they could not think?

Catherine was close, had been close since Shamir ordered her on her back. She came, crying out, a broken and needy sound, and Shamir reveled in it - and she didn’t stop. She knew from experience that Catherine could stand more, _wanted_ more, and so she kept moving her hand until Catherine was writhing beneath her, coming again and again. Until she was spent.

It was only then that Shamir straightened, letting Catherine’s breast slide from her mouth, looking down at her lover with the faintest of smiles. “ _Now_ you’ve pleased me,” Shamir said, and she leaned down to press a kiss to Catherine’s lips. She could taste herself there, and she liked that.

“You’ve no idea how much I needed that,” Catherine murmured once she’d recovered herself. She gathered Shamir close, strong arms around her, and Shamir pressed her lips to Catherine’s shoulder - a rare gesture of affection, one that she knew Catherine cherished.

“Me too,” she said, soft. She felt Catherine’s fingers run through her hair. She felt sticky and warm and sated, and she knew she’d want a bath when she awoke. The inn had one - another rare pleasure.

Really, she could not regret anything that Catherine had done today. They made themselves comfortable, curled around each other in the soft inn bed, ignoring the remnants of their pleasure, and Shamir felt - satisfied. She thought she might even sleep.

“Breakfast is on you tomorrow,” she said, weary, a hint of amusement in her voice. One last dig, one soft teasing sentence.

“Sure,” Catherine said, and there was tired laughter in her voice. She pulled Shamir closer, kissed her wearily. And then they rested, content in each others’ warmth, limp and satisfied. Eventually, they slept.


End file.
